It Doesn't Mean A Thing
by Tazmy
Summary: Dreams weren't real. They didn't mean a thing. Missing scene for Rising. Ford Centric.


_A/N: Thanks to Sholio and angw for the beta._

_A/N: This is a short missing scene to Rising in response to a challenge on shepsatlantis. Spoilers only if you haven't seen season two or three._

* * *

The welcoming aroma of sizzling bacon lured Aiden back to the conscious world. Rolling out of bed in record time, he skipped down the steps and straight into Grandma Muna's inviting kitchen. 

"Smells like you pulled out all the stops."

"That I did." Muna placed a serving platter full of eggs in the middle of the table, slapping Aiden's hand away from the sausages. "It is a special occasion, seeing as our grandson was kind enough to pay us a visit before disappearing to God knows where."

"I come as I can. We don't exactly get a lot of vacation in the military."

"Doesn't seem right, that's all I'm saying, to keep a grandma away from her only grandson. I won't speak none more about it, because I know it ain't your fault, but don't you even try and tell me you don't plan to be gone for longer this time."

"I already told you that was the case. Now can I dig in already?"

A fork and knife lay in each of his hands, his belly knowing full well that no one in the world cooked like Muna. The SGC served up something closer to hospital food, and the surrounding restaurants weren't much better.

"Not 'til your grandfather gets down here, and you know it. We ain't ever started a meal without grace in the Ford family, and we're not going to start now on account of your aching tummy."

Aiden was still rolling his eyes, when he heard a grunt from behind. A moment later and grandfather William stood before him with a grim countenance. He slid into his chair, not once taking his eye off Aiden.

When neither William nor Aiden spoke up, Muna took the lead. "Well come on now, everyone hold hands. Aiden, you'll be doing us the honors this fine mornin'."

Aiden mumbled a quick prayer under his breath, ending with a quicker 'Amen'. Muna gave him the eye for it, but didn't say anything as he reached for the sausages. He could already taste the meal, though he hadn't yet taken a bite.

"You eat well, now. Wherever it is that you're going, I'm betting it won't do you much good to be hungry."

"Yes, Muna." He secretly liked the way his grandma treated him, mollycoddling and the like. The military didn't stand much for pampering, and it made coming home that much more special.

His fifth mouthful of scrambled yumminess was just a beat from his lips, when he noticed that William had yet to say a word or move. "You feeling okay?"

William glanced from grandma to grandson, leaning back against his chair with crossed arms. Bags had formed under his eyes, and a few more wrinkles had appeared overnight. Clearing his throat, he stopped his gaze on Aiden and held it there. "I've been thinking. I don't think you should go on that mission of yours."

"I'm not exactly given a choice where I get to go. The military doesn't work that way."

"You don't need to tell me how the military works, Aiden. I've earned my right to the veteran title in more ways than you can imagine. All the same, I don't think you should go."

His food forgotten, Aiden replied, "Even if I could say no, I wouldn't. This is a good opportunity for me."

"Hogswallop. Good opportunities don't mean getting killed."

"What would make you think—"

Muna gasped, her knife clattering on her breakfast plate. "You've had a dream, haven't you?"

William nodded solemnly.

"You should listen to him," Muna said, her arms flailing. "If the dreams say you shouldn't go—"

"They're just nightmares, grandma. They don't mean anything."

"Yes, they do. In our family, you know they do," she exclaimed. William had returned to silence.

The bacon had lost its appeal. Aiden kicked away from the table, finding refuge in the living room. There wasn't much on the television, but at least he could distract himself. He could hear Muna and William conversing in low, frenzied whispers. They were good people, and always had been. He liked that they were protective of him. But their superstitious natures combined with the incessant need to take care of him all the time…well…sometimes it was just too much.

The whispers died down when Bugs escaped Elmer for the twentieth time. Aiden heard his grandfather's footsteps come his way, and watched as William lowered himself onto the couch with a deep sigh. "It wasn't my intent to upset you."

"I know. I just…It's my last day with you two for a while. I just want it to go well, that's all."

"I appreciate that. I really do. You bring more joy to your grandmother and me than I think you could ever realize." William reached over the oak coffee table, grabbing the slender remote. A soft click let Aiden know the television was off without him having to see the dark screen. "That's why I don't want to see you hurt. It's one of our biggest fears that one of those men in uniform will show up at our door and—"

"That won't happen—"

"It ain't your place to say what'll happen and what won't. You're cocky for your age and full of it, too. You think you know so much that you don't need to hear what your elders have to say about it. What those who love you and have lived a lot longer than you can give you. So do an old man a favor and just give him a chance to speak. Can you do that?"

Aiden nodded despite himself. It wasn't how he wanted to spend his time here, but it was clearly important to William. "Yeah. Sure."

"You remember the night your parents died?"

It had been forever ago, but he could still recall the sinking pit in his stomach when he'd been told. How all the adults had been so upset and Muna had had to explain that he was coming to live with them.

"Yeah, I remember."

"Do you remember what you did before they left that night?"

Aiden's hands swiveled around each other, gliding against his sweat. He nodded his head.

"You had begged them not to go. That they had to stay home or something terrible would happen. Do you remember why?"

"I'd had a feeling."

"You'd had a dream, Aiden. And though you didn't understand, you had been moved enough to try and prevent anything from happenin' that night. Your grandmother had said that they should listen to you, but your parents were just as stubborn as you are."

Aiden could feel his breathing slow as he pictured his mom's sweet smile and his dad's kind eyes. From what he could remember, they had been good parents and good people.

"That was a long time ago."

"Doesn't make it any less real," William said, straightening himself against the cushions. "Our family has a gift. It's how your mother knew our house was on fire even though we were thousands of miles away. It was how we were able to help Lara that night she was nearly attacked. And it's how I know you can't go on this mission of yours."

Aiden pulled away from the couch, pacing across the shag carpet, his arms locked behind him. "It's not that cut and dry. We got lucky sometimes, sure. But what about all the false calls? Like when you call me because you think something terribly bad has happened, and I did nothing that entire day but scrape my leg. I'm not lying when I say this is the chance of a lifetime. I wish I could tell you about…to let you see why I have to go and what I've been doing, but I can't. And I can't give it up because something may or may not happen. I'm in the Marines. Something could happen any day; it just comes with the job."

William's hand shook, and Aiden wasn't sure whether it was from the arthritis or fear. The last thing he wanted was to cause them pain.

William's voice took on a determined tone when he spoke next. "I say this with the utmost respect. You are a fool."

"Grandpa—"

"No. Don't you grandpa me while I'm trying to save your life. We took good care of you, didn't we?"

"Of course."

"And did we ever give you cause to think us crazy?"

"No, but—"

"Then stop being a jackass." William paused long enough to look at the door, as if afraid Muna would hear him cussing.

"I'm leaving tonight. I'd like it if we didn't spend all day arguing."

William patted the nearest cushion, and Aiden took a seat there, forcing himself to be calm. It was never a pleasant thing, hearing someone say they thought you were going to die, or whatever the heck it was William was trying to say. And his parents' images were still flashing before his eyes.

"Listen," his grandfather said, "I don't know all of what I saw in that dream. There was a wall of water. And your eye, Aiden, there was something wrong, demonic even, about your eye."

"So now I'm a demon?"

"I ain't saying you are. Just sayin' what I saw."

Gathering his bearings, Aiden raced through his thoughts. "You saw water?"

"Yeah, I did. A giant wall of blue and you were walkin' through it with some folk. And there was a darkness following you. Consuming you. It means something to you, doesn't it?"

"No. Nothing." Aiden had so rarely lied to them, he couldn't stop his own hands from shaking. "I'm going to finish my bacon," he muttered. It was just a coincidence that his grandpa had said water, right? Dreams weren't real! They didn't mean a thing. 


End file.
